'Til the Water Runs
By Matthew D. Berkshier
11/27/2024
The well is dry, and I do not know how
To mend the sadness idling in my mind.
You always said the years were on my side,
But funnily enough, they slip right through
My fingers, lost to misty reveries,
Memento Mori in its purest state.
I do not wish to live in weightlessness,
Not dead yet not alive, a monument
To lost sensations and the ebb and flow
Of time. I crave the gravity of life!
I crave the constant hum, the vital spark
With which I am affirmed. I need to feel,
I need to breathe the freshness of the air,
To live again despite the chemical
Imbalance wresting potence from my brain.
Yet neither am I dead, nor do I live.
I lack the fortitude and will to drive
My heart to greener pastures, so I sit
And wait, the moments drumming on and on,
Because the well is dry, and I cannot
Begin to change things 'til the water runs.
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